Jenna's story
by corneroffandom
Summary: What led to Jenna giving Cyrus up.


His name is Brayden Foster, he's intense and hot and just the right amount of danger to turn most of the girls in the vincinity to mush with a simple, lingering gaze. Jenna Bradshaw is young, desperate for something new and completely smitten.

It's a disaster in the making but she never, ever regrets the night they share, lust and heat and gnawing need growing between the two of them before they finally give in and sneak off to the school, abandoned as it is in the summer months. Looking back, it's far from spectacular, not even halfway good. She's never done it before and he's obviously drunk but she never forgets the night, how his smokey blue eyes pierce hers as he digs his fingers into her skin and she gasps, parts of her that she's never been aware of on fire as he touches her.

What it brings her, however, is life shattering, a port in the storm as her family disowns her, ships her away, acts like she's the black mark in the family because she's fifteen, pregnant and the baby's father left town barely two weeks after that night. All she thinks about is the child forming within her, it keeps her sane as her aunt sniffs haughtingly whenever she enters the room and her uncle virtually ignores her. They only take her in because of distant fondness of her as a child and it's obviously a burden they despise and she dreams of the day her child comes into the world, with wide eyes and a smile just for her-- pictures when she'll be strong enough to collect the child and just leave, never see her family again.

However reality stops all of her plans as the stress of everything causes her various complications-- spotting, cramping, until finally, two months before her due date, a doctor puts her on bedrest. She doesn't dare move, unwilling to risk the bright eyed baby from her dream's future.

Thankfully, her cousin comes home from school for vacation around this time and Lisa is a gentle, loving soul, takes care of Jenna when her mother won't look twice at the pregnant girl, gets her food and books to take her mind off of things.

"What would I do without you?" Jenna asks one day early August, clinging to Lisa's hand. The baby should be coming any day now, and Jenna cannot wait to see her child.

Lisa smiles, kissing her cousin's hand. "You'll be fine, darling Jenna. You'll see," she promises calmly. "You too, little one." Her hand rests briefly on Jenna's large stomach before her mother yells for her, causing her to jerk. "I'll be back shortly."

Jenna smiles and nods, replacing her own hand on her stomach. "Hear that, little one? Cousin Lisa loves you almost as much as I do." She sighs and rests her eyes, humming softly.

------

Only a few days later, the cramps begin and Jenna wakes up, crying from the amazing pain. "LISA!" she calls out, curling around herself.

A doctor is brought in quickly and even though her aunt and uncle avoid the proceedings, Lisa stays by her side the whole time, urging her to push when her strength fails and helping her to breathe and so many other things that Jenna's not sure what she'd do without her.

"One more push, Jenna," the doctor says grimly and for a moment Jenna regrets that she didn't bother remembering this man's name as she grits her teeth and follows his directions, baring down. When she finally feels relief, a loud cry fills the room and she gasps, immediately drawn to it. "Is that--"

"You have a healthy baby boy, Ms. Bradshaw," the doctor says, cradling the bundle close to him as he walks over to her.

Only a few moments later, she's cooing down at her son, smiling through her tears. She's tired but doesn't dare looking away from the bright blue eyes peering up at her. "Dear Lord," she murmurs. "Lisa, look. He's mine."

Lisa smiles and nods, gently running her hand over the soft hair on top of the baby's head. "He's going to be quite the looker when he grows up. A charmer too, more than likely," she says shakily.

Jenna nods and kisses his cheek, smiling as he squirms unhappily.

--------

She was so ill through her pregnancy that names weren't on the top of her list and now she finds she regrets it as she looks down at Baby Boy Bradshaw and has nothing to call him. "I'm so sorry," she breathes as she cuddles him close. "I'll think of something, I promise."

He's a content baby, only fusses when he's hungry or wet, the rest of the time sleeping peacefully or looking at her like he's still not sure what to make of her. She sympathizes, not sure what to make of herself yet either. Life beyond the room she's been in since giving birth has ceased to have any meaning and she thinks she could be happy for life right here with her son, but after a couple days, it all comes to a crashing halt.

Lisa enters with tears in her eyes, twisting her fingers around her skirt as she settles in next to Jenna on the bed and smiles wavering at the little boy still in her arms. "Jenna," she chokes. "I'm so sorry."

"What for?" Jenna asks, holding the baby all the closer to her.

"Momma and Poppa, they tell me... they want you out of here."

"What?" she demands, disbelieving. "But..."

"They say this was never to be permanent," she says sadly. "Just until you gave birth. They believe they've given you proper time to heal and are asking you to be out by nightfall."

Jenna has nothing to say, eyes locked on her baby son. _Oh, God,_ she thinks, crushed. _What do I do now?_

She has no friends here, all chances at meeting people demolished when she grew so sick she could barely leave the house. She's out of bed almost as soon as Lisa tells her her parents' decision, collecting the few things of hers and her son's that she can carry easily without taxing her still sore body.

She's as ready as she's going to be within a half an hour but before she can leave, Lisa stops her and takes her hand with a wavering smile. "Go here, ask if they can help," she says softly, pushing a piece of paper into her cousin's hand. "I'm so sorry, I wish you and the baby all the best."

"Thank you, Lisa, I'll never forget all you've done," Jenna murmurs, hoping her cousin realizes she never will blame the girl for her parents' coldheartedness. A quick hug later, she collects the baby and leaves, chin raised high even though she feels like collapsing in the dirt and crying.

-------

The address ends up taking Jenna to a friend's of Lisa, known as Amelie Potts, who is reluctant at first but agreeable the more of Jenna's story she hears. "It's your luck my parents are abroad," she says with a broad smile, unlocking the guest quarters. "They shan't be back for weeks, and it gets lonely in this big old house. I won't mind the company."

"This is so kind of you," Jenna says, easing down on the bed. "I can't even tell you-- I've been so uncertain what I was to do." She sighs and rocks the baby back and forth, tears pricking at her eyes as he stares back at her.

"Has the wee one have a name?" Amelie asks after setting Jenna's meager bag in the corner where she can reach it easily, yet won't be in danger of tripping over it.

"No," the sixteen year old admits faintly. "I was so ill during the pregnancy, I never took the time to think."

Amelie tuts. "So ill and they still kick you out...! Hmm." She sighs and leans over, lightly chuffing the baby under the chin. "Even so, he's adorable. Well now, I must go check on dinner, if you need anything, just call. Come to the table in around an hour, we'll get your health back shortly with a couple good meals, you'll see."

"That is much too kind for you--" Jenna says, about to offer payment of some kind but Amelie waves her hand dismissively.

"A friend of Lisa's is a friend of mine," she says, "so I suppose a cousin is too. Don't worry about it, Jenna. I'll see you shortly."

"Bye."

A few days at Amelie's home puts Jenna to rights physically if not emotionally but the more time she spends with the baby and thinking, the more she knows she has to do something. Something drastic. She can't give the baby the life he deserves... she's only sixteen, jobless, family-less, the home she's in now is temporary until the Potts return from their vacation.

It breaks her heart but she knows what she has to do so, early one morning, when Amelie is still deep asleep, she sneaks out of the house, the baby wrapped up snugly in a couple blankets. It's a chilly morning and she doesn't want him to get sick before he's found.

Numb feet take her down street after street as she breathes in shakily, memorizing every inch of her son's face. They're almost at their destination when she begins talking in a whisper. "I never thought up a name for you, I suppose because I had a feeling a moment like this would come... I was so sick, I was afraid I would miscarriage... and when you arrived, I knew I didn't deserve you. I'm so sorry, little darling. You deserve much better than me. All I can hope," she shudders as a sob rocks through her and his little face pinches up in unhappiness as if he senses her emotions. "All I can hope is that here you get it," she finishes finally and kisses him tenderly on the cheek. "I... I love you, so, so much, darling. I will never ever forget you, I swear. I will try my hardest to find you when I can properly take care of you. Please don't hate me," she pleads, looking up to find they're only feet from the orphanage. Her heart seizes.

A thought strikes her and she grabs, fumbles at the chain around her neck. "Never ever throw these out," she murmurs gently to the baby, as she curls his tiny fist in the chain and folds it up in the many blankets.

She wishes momentarily she had remembered to write a note before doing this, but there's no time now, so she resolutely walks up the steps and lays him tenderly down on the cold concrete. "I love you," she murmurs once more through her tears, pressing a tender kiss against his cheek one last time. "I will try my hardest to find you in the future..." Unable to choke out anymore, she turns and dashes back down the street.

It's not much later when the baby begins to cry, missing his mother's warmth and struggling to move his wrist, which is weighed down by uncomfortably cold metal beads. The sound, at least, draws attention as the thin front door of the orphanage is pulled roughly open and one of the women in charge peers down at the baby, lips twisted unhappily. "Bloody hell," she mutters, leaning down to scoop the unhappy creature up. "Tsk, tsk, what youth left you here, hmm?" She rocks him briefly before noticing the silver glint on his arm. "What's that you got there, young one?" she untangles him and stares at it. "22/3/55," she reads off the dogtag thoughtfully. "I suppose your mummy left this with you, young one. Well, let's get you settled."

---------------

Jenna returns to the Potts a few hours later, eyes red and hands trembling. She had hoped that a walk would ease her turmoil but it didn't, just adding to her horror at her actions. One look at Amelie's understanding face and Jenna falls apart again, even worse than originally. "He's gone," she sobs, as the girl wraps her arms around her. "I had... to... let him go, I can't... I can't..."

Amelie rocks her back and forth even though she's barely three years older and cries too softly, feeling the girl's pain as if it's her own.

Staying in this town is painful now, Jenna's heart cracking every time she comes too close to the street she left her son on. Amelie becomes her biggest confidante and they spend hours laying around, discussing the past and what they want to happen in their future-- Jenna wants to be famous, well known and respected for _something--_ she's not sure what yet, but there's plenty of time to figure it out. Amelie has all the fame and fortune she could want-- she admits reluctantly that her father is a well known screenplay writer and she's already acted in a couple of his plays-- but she wishes for a husband and children to round out her already promising future.

When Jenna looks a little stricken by this and Amelie hastens to apologize for her thoughtlessness, Jenna hugs her tighter and whispers "You're a good friend, Amelie. Never feel sorry for your dreams. You deserve it all and more."

Amelie wakes up the next morning to find Jenna's bed empty, room cleared of all signs of her temporary room mate and a note waiting for her on her bathroom mirror.

_I'm so sorry to leave like this without a proper farewell but this town holds nothing for me any longer but pain and horrible memories, except for you and Lisa, of course-- please, take care of yourself, Amelie darling. If you wouldn't mind, please look in on my son now and again, and make sure that Lisa is doing well? Thank you so much for taking in a virtual stranger for so long, you are a kind and gentle soul, please never lose that._

_Love,  
Jenna._

_---------_

Jenna is desperate to do one thing before she leaves this insufferable town but she lacks the money to do it. Her quick eyes watch as person after person walk past and she feels a little brazen. Her fingers twitch. It's so insane, so unlike her, but...

A careless thing walks past, bag held loosely under her arm, and Jenna dashes out just then, knocking the poor woman over and sending her things scattering from the purse after it breaks open upon falling. "Oh! I'm so sorry," Jenna gasps, making a big show of collecting all of the woman's items out of the dirt and pushing them back into her bag-- or so it seems.

"Thank you," the woman says breathlessly. "I should have watched where I was going, am in such a hurry."

She's up and gone within moments, speeding down the street and Jenna smiles as soon as she's far away from the scene of the crime, an expensive looking broach clasped in her fist. She's at a jewelry store within minutes.

It doesn't get her much, to be honest-- she's in too much a hurry to haggle with the cold-looking jeweler-- but it's enough to do the top two things on her list-- makes a replica of the dogtag she had left with her son, and buys her a ticket out of this town.

She looks down at the dogtag sadly and shakes her head, knowing that keeping it with her will just pain her so she sneaks back to her aunt and uncle's home and finds Lisa outside, swinging her legs back and forth from her position on the window sill.

"Jenna!" she cries, upon seeing her cousin. "You're ok!" She hugs her tightly, tears dripping down her face.

Jenna cries too, briefly, before pulling away. "Lisa, dear, there's no time for this, are my aunt and uncle here?"

"You have perfect timing, they will be gone all afternoon," she says happily. "Please, where is the baby? May I see him?"

Jenna's face drops and she clenches to the dogtags tighter. "I had to let him go. He is at the orphanage now. I pray he'll be adopted by a good family who can give him what I couldn't."

Lisa's tears fall anew. "Oh, darling, I am so sorry," she breathes, clinging to her free hand.

"I gave him my dogtag," she says faintly. "With my birthdate on it. I... wish to come back here, one day, when I can support myself and him and... and, either make sure he's well taken care of, or take him back and love him as I wish I could have from the start. Thus," she says, voice growing a little stronger as she stares at her cousin. "I've made a replica of the dogtag. I would like to leave it here, so I could find it in the future and use it to prove myself to my son, if things work out how I wish."

"Leave it where?" Lisa asks. "Momma or poppa find it, and..."

"I think burying it in the backyard would work," Jenna says. "Don't you?"

"I suppose," the girl nods. "There are shovels in the tool shed."

The two work together for awhile, and Lisa finishes digging as Jenna writes a quick note to include with it just in case her plans never work out and someone else finds the small box.

"Now what?" Lisa asks once the box is properly covered, the dirt packed down to look as normal as possible.

"I'm leaving town," Jenna admits. "I can't thank you enough, though, darling Lisa."

"I'll miss you," Lisa whispers as the cousins hug one last time.

"And I you," Jenna says tiredly. "I better be going, the last thing I want to do is get you in trouble."

The last thing she sees is her cousin waving sadly from the front yard, her form backdropped by the impressively setting sun.

It would be the last time she'd see Lisa-- the girl would contract consumption barely four years later and never regain her health.

Amelie would now and again visit the orphanage, passing herself off as a volunteer, keeping an eye on the unnamed baby who grows into an impish little boy-- now named Cyrus Foley-- with sparkling eyes and an insatiable curiosity that mixes with his naughtiness and sense of right and wrong, which causes interesting things-- she watches fondly as he basically adopts a little toddler boy as his brother to keep him from being bullied and, in a strangely cylical moment, steals as much money as he can from the women watching over him and the other kids without raising suspicions, mere loose change here and there.

Finally, Amelie can't stop herself and she grabs his attention by poking at his fist full of money one day and whispers, "What do you plan on doing with that, Cyrus?"

He looks up at her in horror and seems like he's about to run so she moves away, raising her hands in what she hopes seems like a non-aggressive movement. "I'm not going to tell on you," she promises. "I just want to know."

He still looks hesitant but finally he takes his free hand and pulls at something under his shirt-- her breath catches as he tugs free a dogtag. "This was my mum's," he explains, eyes dulling a little as he looks down at it, baby teeth digging into his lip. "Or so Madam Bennett says. I want Grady to understand we're definitely brothers, he's so young, he prob'ly won't remember, but the dogtag will make things more believable for the other kids, y'see?"

He looks so hopeful as he looks at her that she nods, unable to break the little boy's hopes and dreams-- Grady is two years old, so it's possible-- she can barely remember anything before she was four, except for what people had told her, so she thinks he has a point. "I have an idea," she smiles. "How much money do you have right now?"

"Not even five dollars," he says, looking frustrated.

She smiles at him. "When's your birthday?" She knows the date better than anyone else but she doesn't want to make him suspicious.

"August 21st," he says. "At least that's what the Madams guessed, because I was a few days old when they found me."

It's a couple days off but he's seven years old, Amelie can't bring herself to correct him-- not to mention doing so would mean she'd have to reveal she knew Jenna, so she keeps her mouth shut and thinks. "Well, that's next week. I tell you what, I'll go get you a replica made and you can consider it a birthday gift from me. Alright?"

His eyes light up so much, she can't help but see Jenna in every inch of him and it chokes her up briefly as he wraps his thin arms around her in gratitude. "Thank you!"

_Oh Jenna, you would love him so much,_ she thinks tenderly as she rocks him back and forth like a mother would.

----------

Amelie wonders sometimes why she never just adopts Cyrus-- and Grady-- and be done with it, but she remembers the look of sadness on Jenna's face as she talked about returning some day for her son and finds she just can't bring herself to do it, remembers the last conversation she had with Lisa, who had said that Jenna wanted to find her son but if he was in a happy home, would've just left him there.

She sighs, conflicted, as she touches Grady's new dogtag with the date etched into its surface. "I hope I'm making the right choice," she says.

Grady's an adorable little two year old, all chubby fingers and searching, wide green eyes, and he looks nothing like thin, solemn Cyrus but no one cares, knowing better than to harm anything Cyrus has claimed, because he's good at twisting situations to suit him and has all the women who work at the orphanage charmed.

She tsks playfully at the inquisitive little guy as he tugs at her pearls, a grin on his thin lips. "You're going to grow up to be quite the looker, ain't ya?" she murmurs, smiling as Cyrus hovers nearby. "Like your brother." Both boys' eyes light up and she grins. "Here ya go," she says, setting Grady down next to Cyrus. With a flourish, she pulls out the dogtags and put them gently around the toddler's neck. "You might wanna make sure he doesn't lose them," she tells Cyrus, though she thinks it's an unneeded warning.

He nods anyway. "Thanks, Madam Potts," he says with a blinding smile, tugging on Grady's arm until he faces his brother. "Let's look at this," he hums happily, pulling out his own dogtag and showing it to Grady. "See, they match, our mum gave us them."

Grady's eyes widen further, something Amelie thought was impossible, and he grins brightly. "Twins!"

Amelie laughs as Cyrus grins back at his little brother. "Whatever you say, Grady."

------

Amelie only manages another visit or two when a foster family snaps the Foley brothers up and she never sees them again. She spends the rest of her days wondering if Jenna ever found her son. Not long afterwards, the Bradshaw family abandons the old house, no one ever moves in as the place grows more and more rundown and she never hears from the family again. Eventually news trickles back to Australia that Jenna has died in a car accident, along with the news that her two children, one a baby and one a pre-teen, are being sent to England to stay with the Bradshaws. She has never met these two but it feels like a deep, regretful ache in her gut-- more children failed, in one way or another.

Afterwards, sometimes, she ventures into the yard and looks down by the tree where, before dying, Lisa had confessed to her that Jenna had buried the dogtag. It leaves her breathless with pain and bittersweet memories. She feels sick that Cyrus and Jenna were never reunited.

After her own husband dies, she gives up the little house that they had made their own and moves to the same street the Bradshaws had once lived. The house is in ramshackles now, obviously abandoned and uncared for, but she likes to watch it now and again-- fond memories of Lisa come back to her, and it helps her to never forget the unhappy sixteen year old that came to stay with her, or the bright eyed little boy that she lost track of years ago.

One day, she sees a couple of men standing outside of the house, talking intensely. Something about one of them beckons her but before she can move, a third man appears and startles him, which brings the youngest looking man back out to defend the second. When they stop yelling at each other and disappear to the backyard, shovels in hand, her breath is knocked from her as she feels dizzy at sudden hope. She's a little too old for this but she runs down the street anyway to the abandoned, worn down house and stands on the sidelines, watching as the three men dig desperately by the tree as if possessed-- and they find it.

She holds her breath as they open the box and compare the dogtag against the one around the man's neck-- her hopes are confirmed as he is revealed to be Jenna's son. Her head spins and she looks upwards, tears in her eyes. "He's been found, darling Jenna," she murmurs. "It has taken much too long, but yes, he... he is found."

Her gaze falls back onto Cyrus-- takes in how he's grown up, strong and tall with handsome features that reminds her of Jenna just enough. She smiles. "He's beautiful," she murmurs. "I wish you were here to see him."

She has many questions but one look at the boy tells her that he's been through enough for one day as both men clap the flabbergasted looking man on the shoulders, so she returns to her house. After nearly fourty years, a kind of peace overwhelms her and she almost misses her seat, just barely catching herself before she falls to the floor. An embarrassed laugh pours from her lips as she pictures Jenna and Lisa laughing at her.

"I wish you both were here," she whispers sadly, finally leaning back in her chair.


End file.
